Post By robusto
Why do I want to replace my Cunill Space? Cos I'm lazy?
I tend to buy and keep, not given to flirting with novelty for its own sake.
So once I bought my Cunill Space grinder 10 years ago the intention was to age it gracefully--just like its owner.
And the ever faithful commercial Grimac 2-grouper which is the raison d'etre for Cunill's existence.
But every now and again I'd get an itch.
Sure, it's built like an armoured tank and spits out 20 grams in 9 to 10 seconds.
But there's no doubting this boxy hunk of stainless steel is uglier than SpongeBob SquarePants.
Not sufficient reason per se to get rid of it though.
So the subconscious seeks out other more substantial negatives to justify an inevitable demise.
The grind adjustment isn't fine enough. And I have to use reference points drawn on unbecoming bits of white masking tape stuck to the but carrier cover.
"Get rid of it. You deserve better" a silent voice screams to me. Quite loudly, even above the ear-splitting decibels of those flat burs in full flight.
There's so much wastage. In making tea last century we'd say "one teaspoonful for each cup and one for the pot". I now say 20 grams for me and another 20 for the Cunill's voracious appetite to feed it's throat, grind chamber, doser and grinds catcher.
Is there 20 grams in the portafilter left? Who knows. Looks are receiving so each dose is methodically weighed. I'm just not that patient no more. Surely what I'd save in scales batteries would more than compensate the cost of a new grinder? Wouldn't it?
Performing open-heart surgery on Senora Cunill periodically to remove the obnoxious built up brown cholesterol is fraught and I fear one day the metallic patient may not survive the procedure.
Enter into my research the --to me--hitherto unheard of Baratza sette. I'm told the newest improved all bugs- squashed model, the 270wi will be available in September.
So that gives be 4 months to prepare a suitable eulogy for after the last rites.
...If once again as has become the custom, I don't banish these "the devil is making me do it" thoughts to the depths of the knock box.